


The Tall Tale of a Rat

by lmshady



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Humor, I'm Still Bad At Tagging, Macro/Micro, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7435662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmshady/pseuds/lmshady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long story short, Tracer has to babysit an oversized Junkrat for the day. </p><p>What could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tall Tale of a Rat

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to, my friend, TheBandit for helping me edit, and rework my story. It likely wouldn't have been posted without his help. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy a bit of junker shenanigans!

“So… Explain to me, again, how this happened? In short.” Soldier 76 asked, fingers pinching the bridge of his where his nose would be over his mask in exasperation.

  


It was too early in the morning for any sort of shenanigans from the Heroes of Overwatch, especially the younger, more, prone to accidents members. Sure letting a couple of junkers into their ranks hadn’t been so bad. Roadhog knew what he was doing and could get the job done but Junkrat… There needed to be an eye kept on that kid at all times lest he blows something up in their facilities, again. Which was usually his bodyguard’s job but that hadn’t gone over well when a section of their barracks had been demolished via ‘prank’. D.Va never did get him back for it, but at the same time likely learned her lesson about messing with the bomber’s things. .

 

This though? Junkrat was bad enough alone but…

  


“I was testing out a modified laser electric current for my weapon…” Winston sniffed, annoyed that he couldn’t go into further detail about his findings in the technology.

 

“I was watchin’!” Tracer chimed in, bouncing from one foot to the other.

 

“I touched the laser electric current!” Junkrat giggled with childish glee, only for his smile to instantly drop as the other three turned to look up at him, “Wot? In my defense, it was really shiny…”

  


...Junkrat nearing the size of one of those mechs built in Volskaya wasn’t good. Not at all, especially with his love of chaos and destruction which was now brought to a whole new level with his size. Apparently with everything on him following suit as well, from his clothing to his rip-tire to his prosthetics there was a chance that destruction on a nuclear scale might occur if they didn’t keep the Aussie in check.

 

“Okay…” Solider 76 murmured, pulling his hand away from his face to look over the group, “Here’s what’s going to happen; Winston, fix this, Junkrat, hand over your weapons, now,”

 

Junkrat pouted at their leader from his hunched, cross-legged seat on the floor. Too big to stand up but pretty thankful to have been increased in size in the hangar of the Overwatch facility than any other room in the place, giving him plenty of space to at least stretch out. Just not up. And speaking of up, he really didn’t want to give up any of his explosives but did anyways with a grumble as he started to pull off his Rip-Tire first and went from there.

 

“And Tracer,” Soldier 76 started, only to lean in closer to the younger member of the team to quietly say, “Keep an eye on him...”

 

Case and point being the eleven foot tall spiked tire being placed down to the ground on its side with a heavy thud, staggering Tracer until she found her balance with arms out. A small giggle leaving her before she moved to salute the old soldier,

 

“You can count on me, love! I’ll be sure to keep him out of trouble until this all gets sorted.”

 

“Good.”

 

Both turned in time to watch Junkrat pulling his bandolier of explosives over his head to place on top of the tire. He stopped after that, a thoughtful look coming across his features that turned to his trademark smile directed at the three. Though Soldier 76 wasn’t convinced that was everything,

 

“All of it, Junkrat…”

 

“Oh…” Pouting more, the Aussie unclipped the pouch from his waist to place in the pile with a huff.

 

“Is that everything? What’s in the canteen?”

 

“Milk tea with boba,” he shrugged, “Half sweet.”

 

“Bubble tea?” Tracer questioned in surprise, not really expecting that kind of answer.

 

“If that’s what ya wanna call it, sure.”

 

Soldier 76 couldn’t help a deep sigh, annoyed to be dealing with any of this, “Fine, now take all this and push it into the other hangar.”

 

“Tch, bossy…” The junker grumbled, pushing his tire into the adjoining hangar, “Y’want anythin’ else from me? Maybe me pants? Leg? Why don’t ya just steal my soul while yer at it…”

 

“Watch your tone, kid.”

 

Growing annoyed, Junkrat growled lowly while still on his stomach as he gave his rip-tire a hard shove that sent it sliding into the far wall of the other hangar with a satisfying crash. He couldn’t help the hyena-like laugh to leave him at causing damage to the building as he turned a shit-eating grin directly at eye level with the soldier, just daring him to say or do something about it. Give them both a reason to go at each others throats.

 

“Well, uh, there is something I will be needing from you.” Winston spoke up, breaking the tension between the two as he approached the prone junker.

 

“Oh yeah? An’ what’s th- OW! What was ‘at for?!” The Aussie quickly moved to sit up with a frown, his flesh hand rubbing at his hair where a strand had been viciously plucked out.

 

“For science! Heh, well mostly in figuring out how to get you back to normal since you won’t be able to fit in my lab anytime soon. So this,” he holds up the blonde, singed, piece of hair in his hand, “will just have to do for now.”

 

“Could’a asked…”

 

“Next time, now if you'll excuse me.” The armoured gorilla grinned taking his strand of hair and modified cannon back to his laboratory with Soldier 76 following at his side.

 

“Do I even want to know why you’re carrying that around?”

 

“Tracer and I were going to give it a test drive at the training ground when our uh, curious friend wanted a demonstration and well…” Winston trailed off with a faint chuckle while the old soldier sighed once more. Too old for all this.

 

“See ya guys later! Byeee~!” Tracer waved the two off enthusiastically before turning to her miserable looking, pouty team mate. “Aw, cheer up love! You’ll get your things back.”

 

The junker could only grunt, folding his arms over his lean chest like a child that didn’t get what they wanted. It was rather unsettling seeing the man without his usual manic grin, this was kind of scarier to see him without it meaning he was genuinely upset about losing his toys or being bossed around.

 

“Come now, we can have fun without blowing something up.” The young Brit continued, getting a look from Junkrat that made it seem like she was the one who was crazy, “I’m serious! Here, why don’t I fetch us a pack of playing cards? Y’know, the set we got Reinhardt as a joke? The king sized playing cards~?”

 

That got a more positive reaction. Junkrat’s eyes widening first then the start of a toothy smile at the amusing idea of still being able to play cards without having to squint too hard at the tiny pictures. It was enough incentive for Tracer as she laughed.

 

“I’ll take that as a yes! So I’ll be back in a flash!” She chirped, already zipping away to get the pack of cards. Only taking about a minute before she was back and pulling the oversized cards out of their box and awkwardly trying to shuffle. “So, whatcha wanna play? I know Old Maid, War, Pelmanism, Go Fish, Crazy Eights-” all fifty two of the cards in her arms were accidentally dropped to the floor, making her giggle as she went on, “52 pick up and plenty more!”

 

Giggling out his own hyena-ish laugh, Junkrat leaned in to gather up the cards and shuffle them himself while thinking over the options to play, “Let’s go crazy eights, plenty of versions of that ta mess with.”

 

“Why am I not surprised.” Tracer quietly giggled.

 

“What was ‘at?”

 

“Oh nothing! Do you wanna deal?”

 

Shrugging, the junker finished up his shuffle to deal out eight cards for the both of them as Tracer took a seat and picked up her comically oversized hand while his own looked like he was holding domino tiles. Though at least he could make out his cards while both of them set up their hands then flipped the first card to start off the game, “I dealt, so you can have first go, sheila.”

 

“Lena.” Junkrat raised a brow, “M’name, it’s Lena. Lena Oxton.”

 

“Heh, guess if we’re gonna be formal… Jamison Fawkes, but I prefer Junkrat.”

 

Tracer smiled brightly before placing down her first same suit card to start off their game, “Nice ta meet you.”

 

“Likewise.”

  


They played a few rounds of each version of Crazy Eights that they could come up with before moving on to different games, playing for a solid thirty minutes of witty banter and twitchy laughter, mostly coming from Junkrat. Who had moved more times while playing than Tracer had since she was still in her seated cross-legged position while the junker was belly down with both legs kicking back and forth in the air behind him as he focused on his cards, that were nearly touching his nose, with an errant twitch now and then. The twitching soon growing more frequent by the passing second.

 

“You okay Jami- Junkrat?”

 

Junkrat’s orange eyes flicked up from his cards to Tracer with a manic grin already plastered across his features, barely noticing that he was none stop giggling only to stop with a very visible twitch of his shoulder. Just now comprehending the question.

 

“Yeh? Why do you-” he twitched again, stronger, this time in his good hand as his fingers curled and flexed in strange ways with the muscle spasm, stalled in his question as he was still jittery after it ended, “A-actually, I think I need to stretch. Yeah, stretch, it’s cramped in here. Too cramped…”

 

“Okie doke, we’ll just put our game on hold then to get some fresh air.” Lena smiled, placing down her cards nicely.

 

Junkrat, not so much. His mind in other places as the mechanical hand holding the plastic coated paper dropped to the ground heavily, releasing the cards then crushing them under the same hand as he used it to push himself up onto his hands and knees. A low giggling starting up again in his chest as his eyes darted about for an exit for him to squeeze out of. Again, thankful to be in the hangar as the openings for going in and out for vehicles and planes gave him more than enough space to wiggle out. Though disappointingly less destructive than tearing his own path free, not that ‘76 would appreciate the mess.

 

“Right then, think you can fit?” Tracer asked, already dashing over to the opening with hands on her hips and waiting.

 

All she got was higher pitch of giggles to go with a nod and sharky grin before the junker was moving, crawling his way along and leaving behind a soot mark on the floor where his chest had been pressed against . And once outside on the tarmac landing strip, he was quick to rise up to his usual battle stanced hunch then further up to a neck craning height as he groaned and stretched out to a few loud pops and cracks of stiff joints, both from flesh and metal.

 

Junkrat was already deceptively tall, usually hunched low during fights to stay more mobile and be less of a target but when he actually straightened out he was already a giant in his own way. A lanky, lean muscled giant that stood tall over a good portion of the mercenaries of Overwatch. One that was stretching out in luxurious ways starting with rolling his neck around down to his shoulders then going on into what must be a routine stretch as he swayed, twisted and stretched out.

 

It was rather graceful but likely necessary when she’d watch him go flying into a fray with bombs at ready. Not as graceful but definitely tactful in his work.

 

Tracer flinched at a rather rough sounding crack from the junker, the man making a face like it had been as painful as it sounded but fell into a rather blissed out look that spoke volumes on how it had actually felt. It likely hurt, but in a good way that promised relief. She could only shake her head, “Feelin’ better then?”

 

No response. Just the Aussie continuing along in his stretching while humming under his breath with eyes pointed skywards or off into the distance, lost in his own crazy little world with a random smile and stifled snigger that would leave him now and then as he stretched an arm across his chest.

 

“Hm, guess he didn’t hear me?” Tracer hummed, rubbing her chin before cupping her hands around her mouth, “FEELIN’ BETTER?!”

 

That got his attention, pausing in his motions to turn his vision down to Lena with a startled expression that was quick to spread into a wide grin. He dropped his arms then before suddenly moving to crouch down low, elbows resting on his knees and balancing surprisingly well on his peg leg and and the ball of his foot.

 

“Course, more room an- uh,” Junkrat paused, brow raising to the little wave dash Tracer made taking a step back from him. Her eyes wide which just made him giggle with childish glee, “Too close for ya?”

 

“J-just a lil intimidatin’ is all.” Tracer replied back, making a motion with her thumb and finger a little ways apart, “Lil bit.”

 

“Only a little? Shit, I’m gonna need ta try harder then.” The junker laughed, high and piercing, “But a lil bit works for now.”

 

“Y-yeah.” Lena laughed weakly, trying to shake off her startlement. She hadn’t expected something as big as Junkrat to actually move so fast, giants were always portrayed as slow and meandering but that was in fantasy and fairy tale, not real life. Either way she cleared her throat to start up a new conversation, “So, stretching huh? Y’looked like you were gettin’ ready to run a marathon.”

 

The blonde shrugged, moving to sit down with legs splayed out then stretching his hands to his foot, “Habit I guess. Always good to limber up before doin’ anythin’ really, and it just feels good too. Keeps the muscles, or what’s left of them, ready for anythin’. At least back in Australia, never knew what would come at you there, best to just be ready for anything. Fight or flight.”

 

“Makes sense.” Tracer nodded though was motivated to do her own bit of stretching too but with a fun thought coming to mind, “Say, why don’t we both ‘limber up’ and play a game.”

 

“Oh? What sort of game?”

 

“Well, since you need to move and stretch out, how about you try to catch me.”

 

Junkrat scoffed, moving to sit cross-legged and settling his hands on his knees, “That it? This is gonna be piss easy!”

 

“Wanna bet?”

 

“Damn roight I do,” he grinned toothily, hunching lower, “loser cooks a homemade meal for the winner.”

 

“That’s it? A meal?”

 

“Why not? Unless ya got somethin’ else in mind or ya got some kind of treasure I don’t know about?”

 

Tracer giggled, shaking her head only to say, “Not that I know of, you?”

 

“I don’t know anythin’ about any treasure!” Junkrat blurted out followed by a nervous giggle, “So, uh, home cooked meal then? Deal?”

 

“Deal.” Tracer nodded with a stifled giggle, grinning back, “Ready when you are.”

 

“I’m always ready, just say the word.”

 

“Alr- EEP!” She gasped, the words barely leaving her mouth before the junker launched himself at her. Luckily instincts took over in zipping her out of the way just as he went flopping on to his belly with arms outstretched in front for the grab and miss. She stood in place a good distance to the side that she whisked herself over to, slightly stunned and a little scared of Junkrat’s enthusiasm as he giggled while pushing himself up but at the same time a little excited. A spark of fun bursting forth from adrenaline, like riding a rollercoaster only better.

 

Challenging, like a good mission.

 

And it looked like the Aussie was on the same page as he half turned to look at Tracer from the corner of his bright orange eye, the pupil shrinking visibly once it locked on to her. He was more than ready to go again, grin nearly reaching from ear to ear as she waved cheekily at him, goading him on.

 

Probably not the best idea to tease the most wound up member of Overwatch but what was the worst that could happen?

 

A good half dozen of poor scenarios went off in Lena’s head but she shook them off, Junkrat wasn’t a bad person. He joined Overwatch, was a little odd now and then but seemed like a nice guy… One with a very sizeable bounty on his head and had killed before… And was currently between thirty to forty feet tall…

 

‘This was fine, everything was fine.’ She thought, bracing to make her escape depending on the junker’s next move. His next jittery, twitchy move as he stayed low…like a predator in the night, ready to pounce. Ready for her to backpedal and weave her way to the right as he came lunging in again, only this time catching himself before he skidded on the ground and went on the assault of swiping at her at any chance he could. So instead of just running it was ducking and dodging for her.

 

At least Junkrat was using his flesh hand to try to make grabs at Tracer, some sort of subconscious effort to not hurt her with the metal prosthetic which was being used to keep his balance more than anything else while hanging low. That was until he had Lena in a corner and used both hands to cup over top of her and keep her in place as he giggled victoriously.

 

“Oooo, whatcha catch, love?” A familiar voice asked from his side, making him jerk his head in the direction and spotting the other waving up at him again.

 

The look on the junker’s face was priceless as he looked between his hands and the small Brit giggling away beside him a few times before opening his hands to nothing. His laughter soon joining in with Tracer’s before it was back to their game with a quick grab at her that missed.

  


The rowdy laughter and heavy clomping didn’t go unnoticed though as Soldier 76 approached the bay doors of the hangar to take a look outside across the runway. A look to the left showed nothing but empty space but a look to the right had him raising a slight brow at seeing Tracer giggling away as she zipped his way with their currently oversized teammate close behind and running like Winston.

 

“Hiya~!” She chirped on the way by with a muted giggle.

Then came Junkrat, more of a mass of psychotic giggles as he zoomed by fast enough to create a strong gust of wind to blow around the soldier’s white hair and the collar of his blazer. The older man’s face unreadable with the mask on as he watched them go by.

 

Definitely too old for this...Why did he even come back to Over- “Hey you kids! Get off my lawn!!” he suddenly shouted, freezing up the two youngsters as he went murder walk down the runway towards them.

 

Both frozen in place on the greens before quickly jumping off the grass with looks of wide eyed surprise as the soldier stood before them. His head turning from looking down at Tracer to looking up at Junkrat before pointing to the grass.

 

“Fix that…” he ground out, pointing at a hole in the ground obviously made by a certain junker’s peg leg.

 

“S-sorry!” Tracer quickly apologized but it was Junkrat to swiftly fix up the rut as good as new. Sort of, as he gently patted the grass down to pacify the other.

 

“...Stay off the lawn.” Soldier 76 warned, turning back to head into the hangar.

 

‘Rat waited until 76 was far enough away before leaning down towards Lena to quietly ask, “Does he always have a stick up his ass? Or is this just for me?”

 

“No… He’s kind of just like that ever since he came back to Overwatch. Doesn’t believe it should have been revived.”

 

“I can see that. Goodie two-shoes organization tryin’ ta keep the peace an’ make the world a better place… Waste’a time really.”

 

Tracer whipped her head up in the other’s direction with an incredulous look, disbelieving of what he had just said. Her mouth opening and closing like a fish to say something but finding no words.

 

“Wot? Don’t look at me like ‘at, it’s just the opinion of a bloke who steals, murders, and explodes his way through life without lookin’ back. Overwatch is a thankless, underappreciated job. ”

 

“Th-then why did you join??”

 

“Shits an’ giggles mostly,” Junkrat shrugged, a grin soon curling along his lips, “an’ it’ll be the closest me an’ Hoggie will ever get ta goin’ legit. Plus, I get an excuse to blow up as much stuff as I want durin’ missions!”  

 

“I think that might be the reason why we’re thankless…”

 

“Oi, I wasn’t here when Overwatch got boo’d off of the stage in the first place. Besides, maybe throwin’ in a little destruction and chaos to the order is what this place needs ‘cuz bein’ ‘Good’ sure got’cha far the first time ‘round.”

 

“Maybe…” Tracer sighed sadly.

 

“Hey,” the junker ‘lightly’ nudged her shoulder with the back of his knuckles, pushing her away a couple of stumbling steps, “don’t get yer panties in a bunch about it, Overwatch is back. Roight? S’all ‘at matters, well that an’ our bet we still need ta settle.”

 

Lena couldn’t stay put out for long, laughing away as she shoved back at that mechanical hand with a nod of her head, “Too true, you ready to lose?”

 

“Are you?”

 

Both youths of Overwatch laughed with mirth before starting their game anew, only with smaller boundaries due to the newest rule of ‘stay off the grass or suffer Soldier 76’s fury’. Which was easy enough and they still had plenty of room to play, all of which was being observed by the newcomer standing at the threshold of the vast doorway.  

 

Roadhog sniffed beneath his mask as he tracked the two across the landing strip, focused more on his oversized charge than the young woman. He had already been warned, in a way, after bumping shoulders with Soldier 76 while searching for Junkrat, the two masked men staring each other down in tense silence. At least until the shorter man finally spoke up, a short and curt warning about keeping a better eye on the punk and where to find him before walking off without another word.

 

Now here he was, observing the two at play. A cat and mouse scenario with likely the correct proportions for the both of them and it seemed fine and dandy...if Roadhog didn’t know Junkrat so well. The kid was easily wound up and excitable, prone to accidents when his level of hype got out of control. But Tracer didn’t know that, she probably thought it would be all in good fun to let him try to catch her, even with him using his soot covered hand trying to nab her. He had seen the Aussie crush one of his detonators in his robotic hand by accident before, so eager to push the button, that he had to switch to using his real hand for the task but even then there was the creaking of the poor device and flexing of excited muscles holding it tight.

 

Much like right now, ‘Hog could see the muscles of ‘Rat’s arm were tight and straining beneath the skin all the way up to his tattooed shoulder. If Tracer ever did, by some random chance, get caught, it would not end very well for the scrawny Brit.

 

Good thing the younger junker always said that aiming was overrated…

 

Only it seemed that the Aussie was slowly but surely learning Tracer’s ways of dashing about and rewinding back to her previously location, almost catching her on the rebound of her skill but just narrowly missing. It was starting to get close, he was catching on and was even starting to time her ability mentally as well as trying to remember where she had last been. And just as he seemed to have the foresight to figure out where she was, watching her teleport once more he whipped around and reached to an empty patch of tarmak. Certain she would appear there and he would have her.

 

Tracer’s eyes widened in surprise to the large hand coming at her as she returned back to her previous location, realizing too late that Junkrat had been tracking her for the last few minutes of play and that she had played right into his hand. Soon to be literally. So focused on the incoming hand, she didn’t even hear the sound of chains coming at her from the side until a hook was around her waist and yanking her fiercely away with a ‘whoop’ of surprise just as that massive hand closed around where she had been before she smacked into something solid. Her attention turned up to the piggy masked face of Roadhog.

 

“Oi oi oi!! I had that one in the bag, y’wanker!!” Junkrat snarled, understandably pissed as he slammed his empty hand to the ground hard enough to shake up Tracer as well as leave a sizeable spidery crack. But Roadhog didn’t budge, not even when the oversized junker scooted right up on his stomach to the others face with a scowl.

Both of them staring each other down in tense silence for a long moment with Oxton trapped in the middle, concerned until Junkrat’s face dropped to a look of wonderment, “Wait a minute… Since you caught her, does that mean we both gotta make you a home cooked meal?”

 

“. . .”

 

“Why? Well we had a bet goin’, if I caught her she’d make me a meal an’ if I didn’t catch her I’d have to make her a meal. But you caught her! So now we have ta make you the meal! Y’lucky gilt!” He giggled with delight, smile twitching with excitement.

 

“I’m alright with this.” Tracer piped up, getting both the junkers’ attention, “Now, can you let me go? Your hook is kind of diggin’ into my sides.”

 

Roadhog grunted while freeing Lena up from his hook, winding it up and placing it back on his belt before crossing his arms and staring at Junkrat. Waiting for some sort of explanation.

 

“What happened to me? Heh, y’see, while you were off runnin’ yer own errands I might have gotten bored and may have touched somethin’ I shouldn’ have but look at it this way! Who’d stop us from stealin’ now? There ain’t a cell big enough to hold me!!” Junkrat cackled with deranged glee.

 

Cringing at the laugh, Tracer couldn’t help but feel worried at the idea of the two going on a massive spree of what would likely be destruction and mayhem from the two only for her brows to raise in surprise as Jamison abruptly stopped laughing. Attention on a silent Roadhog as those strange blonde brows furrowed and he brought a hand up to his chin in contemplated thought.

 

“Yeh, yer roight… Not our style, gotta have a decent amount of tact ta what we do…” Junkrat nodded, “Plus it’d be no challenge at all, where’s the fun in that?! Roight!? Talk about borin’!”

 

Whew… Lena sighed. Glad that Roadhog was at least, somehow, keeping the situation under control. How those two communicated was a strange mystery since the older junker didn’t even have to utter a syllable and the younger knew what he was saying or conveying. So weird, but if Roadhog was going to keep Junkrat in check then all would be well. Or well enough…

 

“So what now?” Junkrat asked, looking between the two with plenty of energy to spare, “Hoggie already won that game. What do we play now?”

 

“Well… We still have our card game to go back to and with an extra joining in we can play even more games.” Tracer offered, hoping the little run around had been enough of a stretch for the junker, “Heck, let’s bring the cards out here so you’ll have plenty of room to stretch out if ya need it.”

 

“That’s right, we had a card game goin’... Alroight! I’m ready to get back into a winning streak! What d’ya say mate? Want in?”

 

“. . .”

 

“Hah, alroight, you get to pick the game then!”

 

“Great! I’ll just go get the cards.” Tracer zipped off, letting the two have their ‘chat’. She was back in a few moments, cards haphazardly held to her chest and stomach to keep them from falling all over the place like before then moved to hand them off to Junkrat to shuffle up, “Awesome, decide on a game then?”

 

“Roadie wants to play poker. The sneaky wanker, ‘e’s got the perfect poker face cuz’a that mask!”

 

Roadhog just huffed out a low chuckle, obviously grinning behind the piggie mask of his but didn’t object.

 

“I’m okay with poker, m’not the best at it but hey. It’s all in the fun!” Lena smiled, already taking a seat on the ground and ready to be dealt in.

 

‘Hog shrugged as he moved to sit down, adjusting his equipment so it didn’t dig into his rear while Junkrat giggled away and finished up shuffling to scoot back, still on his stomach, to deal out five cards to everyone.

 

Even for how big Roadhog was, the cards still looked incredibly funny in his big hands. Now all they needed was McCree to add to the hilarity of their ‘serious’ poker game, with Junkrat’s twitching giggles and Tracer smiling too much at her cards. It would be an easy game for the older junker.

 

Or so one would think.

 

It was actually Tracer to win the majority of games, always smiling and cheerful with every hand she had, throwing Roadhog off of any of her tells. Not that Junkrat was any easier with the man twitching, giggling and having the odd spasm at every hand dealt. Just a mess of unpredictability except for one thing that both Tracer and Roadhog caught on to after a few hands.

 

Good thing they weren’t playing for any stakes…

 

“Fold.”

 

“. . .”

 

“Wot? Aw c’mon! It’s no fun if you don’t even try ta beat my hand!” The Aussie huffed, throwing down his three of a kind, “That’s the fifth time in a row you two’ve done that…”

 

Tracer and Roadhog looked at one another before she lifted up a finger to say, “You might need to work on your tell, love.”

 

“Tell? I don’t have a tell! This face is a stoney fortress of impenetrability!” He scoffed.

 

“It’s not your face givin’ ya away, your face is spot on! It’s uh… Your hair.”

 

“My hair..?”

 

“Yeah… The uh, burnt and singed ends keep flarin’ up when you get good hands, an’ when you get _really_ good hands it catches fire…”

 

The look of realization to come to Junkrat’s face was too good for words, if kind of scary. His brows furrowing, eyes widening and lips going into a straight line right before throwing both hands into his mess of blonde spikes to bury right in while throwing his head back with an annoyed ‘Nnnrrrrrah!!!’ that turned to laughter as he tugged at the embered ends with a loud sizzle. That had to hurt...but he didn’t seem bothered by it, just laughing away wildly.

 

“Is he okay..?” Lena asked the older junker, getting a shrug and watching the man throw his cards into the pile for another round like this was the norm. And it probably was for the bodyguard.

 

“Alroight!” Junkrat declared, abruptly coming out of his giggly stupor to pick up the deck with a red looking palm, “Let’s play somethin’ else then. I need ta win back my streak!”

 

“That’s the spirit! Why don’t you pick the game then.” Tracer smiled.

 

“I choose… War.” He cackled, shuffling quick then dealing out the deck.

 

An hour went by with the three playing cards, going from War to Old Maid to even Go Fish. Or Fish, as Junkrat called it which had a different version to the pair up method of play. All of which was a nice change of pace until the Aussie started to twitch visibly again, starting at his eyes then progressing down the rest of his body in fits and bursts. Though it seemed to have developed into him scratching as well; cheek, neck, side, leg, crotch… Hopefully that was an actual itch and not his mental state going crazy on him like before.

 

“Hey Jamie? Are you alright?” Tracer asked worriedly, watching him shift for the hundredth time, “Do you need to stretch again?”

 

The oversized junker’s eye twitched at being called by his real name but shook his head, biting his lower lip while still smiling. If painfully. He was even starting to rock as he itched at his temple, giggling despite it all as he seemed to go mad.

 

A sigh from Tracer’s side had her turning to look at Roadhog as he placed his hand down and with a grunt moved to stand up, walk over to Junkrat, and pat the other’s knee, grabbing ‘Rat’s attention. They stared at one another in some sort of psychic connection, that was the only way Lena could put it, as the Aussie’s smile grew to dangerous levels.

 

“C-can we? Please? J-just one??” he begged.

 

“. . .” ‘Hog huffed, turning to look over at Tracer. With Junkrat following suit.

 

“Please? Just one explosion, one ka-boom!? J-just gotta blow somethin’ up, s’been too long!”

 

“I don’t really think that’s such a good id-”

 

“Please?!” ‘Rat all but flopped to his belly to beg, shaking up Lena in the process but was quick

enough to catch her against his gloved hand before she fell, “Pretty please? Just one? Just one thing goin’ all explodey??”

 

Tracer stared wide eyed up at the pleading junker, having never seen him beg before, not just with his words but with his eyes as well, as she leaned against his sweaty palm. All his size, all his power and he was begging like a child wanting a teddy bear from the store. He could easily force his will or take what he wanted but he was asking nicely…

 

“Well… Maybe just one explosion wouldn’t hurt.” She had to admit, the crazy junker had some expressive eyes as they lit up like a fireworks. The excitement blooming over his face was cute in a strange sort of way but she had to clear her throat before he went too overboard, “A controlled explosion, that is. I know there are some wooden crates and pallets in the loading yard that are just going to be tossed so we can stack that all up to explode in a safe area and at a safe distance. Alright?”

 

The junker nodded vigorously, “Aw thank ya, sheila! I’d give ya a hug but I’m scared I might accidentally crush ya!”

 

“Th-thanks?” Lena paled but forced a smile anyways, giving that large hand a pat before pushing off of it to let Junkrat stand up with eager giggles. Just itching to blow something up. “You two go ahead an’ head over to the yard and start settin’ up. I’ll head in and tell Soldier 76 what’s goin’ on.”

 

“Why do that? He’s just goin’ ta get crotchety ‘bout it.”

 

“Well, better I tell him than him finding out about it when we blow something. Least he’ll get a warning and be less...crotchety?”

 

“Yeh, I suppose…” Junkrat shrugged before waving, “See ya there, have fun with old crotchety grandpa.”

 

\-----

 

“So…”

 

Soldier 76 slowly moved the paper he was reading down low enough for his visor to be visible over the top, staring at the nervous young woman smiling with guilt and scuffing the floor with her shoes. With a low grunt he folded up the paper and set it down on the table with furrowed brows...

 

“He wants to blow something up?”

 

Tracer nodded.

 

“Did you tell him no?”

 

“Well, I uh…”

 

“Oxton…”

 

“I’m sorry! He was getting real jittery and asked slash begged me to blow something up… So I said yes but with a few rules; like only the wooden things in the back, in a safe area and at a safe distance!”

 

Groaning, Soldier 76 couldn’t help grumbling quietly to himself before asking, “Where is Junkrat right now?”

 

“Prolly in the back loading yard setting up.”

 

“Alone!?”

 

Tracer jumped at his voice, shaking her head, “W-with Roadhog.”

 

“Okay.”  

 

“Okay? So is he allowed, or..?”

 

“Fire extinguisher, keep it away from the building and only one explosion.” The older man nodded, picking up his newspaper and flipping it open to the page he was on.

 

“Thank you!” Tracer beamed with excitement, quickly leaving the room before Soldier 76 changed his mind.

 

\-----

 

Walking to the loading yard, Tracer smiled when she rounded one of the many tall, two to three stacked high, metal shipping containers to find Junkrat belly down and squinting hard as he worked away at setting up his tiny bombs with Roadhog on the other side doing the same. Looks like they had set up all the wooden crates they could find in a nice big stack and had more than a dozen charges already wired about the outside. Talk about efficient.

 

“Hey guys! I’m back, and I got the okay to do this.”

 

Junkrat made a giggling snort, “That why ya’ve got a fire extinguisher?”

 

“Yeeeah, one of the terms of condition to allowing all this. The other two are a safe distance from everything here and nothing but the crates get blown up, got it?”

 

“Heh, got it. Me an’ ‘Hog figured this area here was best. Sure it’s surrounded by all these empty containers in kind of a circle but at least it’s contained. No winds to pick up the flames but still open enough to see the full beauty of it.” He seemed to finish up his wiring on his side with a grin, running his thumb over one of the hand painted charges with pride before peeking around the other side, “Oi, ya almost finished over there?”

 

Roadhog grunted out some sort of affirmative while throwing a thumbs up ‘Rat’s way, getting a giddy giggle from the giant as he moved to stand up and brush his camo shorts off.

 

“Great, let’s get to a ‘safe’ distance an’ watch the fireworks!” He giggled, hobbling to the only opening big enough to fit him then crouching to his usual hunched stance with the other two following behind at their own pace. Once everyone was ready, ‘Hog held the trigger but turned to look up at Junkrat.

 

“. . .”

 

“That’s a great idea! Lena, care for the honours of blowin’ it all up?”

 

“Really?” Tracer asked, surprised to be offered the detonator from Roadhog’s big open hand as she looked down at the device then back to the two.

 

“Sure! Why not? You’ve put up with me most of the day, stuck around even when me mate came back an’  got us permission ta blow stuff up! That’s more than I can say for the rest of the lot here, so yer pretty much an honorary junker in my books an’ deserve yer first taste of mayhem!”

 

“Aw... th-that’s… I’m touched.” Tracer laughed weakly, placing down the fire extinguisher to rub her teary eyes before taking the detonator from Roadhog with a wobbly smile. She cleared her throat then, popping open the top to see the little red button within, “Uh… Fire in the hole?”

 

That got an excited giggle from ‘Rat and a nod from ‘Hog.

 

So with a little more enthusiasm and energy, the kind Junkrat used while blowing shit up, she shouted a loud and proud, “FIRE IN THE HOLE!” that echoed off the grounds of the loading yard and pushed down on the trigger with a satisfying click. The multiple replying beeps all over the crates before they went up was also amazing to hear but the fiery explosion itself had her cheering and bouncing up and down with excitement. No wonder Junkrat loved doing this!

 

“Wooo! Yay! That was- huh?” Tracer paused at seeing Roadhog not watching the explosion so much as staring up at his charge. Her attention soon going up to the giant junker and noticing him rocking back and forth from one leg to the other. He had his metal hand grabbing to the elbow of his other arm while he was biting at the knuckles of his soot covered fingers, huffing out at odd intervals through his nose.

 

“S-so bloody cute…” he mumbled out, shaking some with what had to be fits of tiny, unheard giggles.

 

“Too small…” Roadhog rumbled with dread.

 

“T-too small…” Junkrat confirmed not a second later, twitching as he jerked his head about the area, “Rip-Tire… Where’s me Rip-Tire. That’ll make a bigger explosion, a better explosion! Make everything explodey!”

 

“What? No! Jamison Fawkes! You stop right this instant, mister!” Tracer shouted, just barely holding the twitchy demolitionist undivided attention, “You got your one explosion! I’m sorry it wasn’t big enough for you but your Rip-Tire would be too much! You’ll destroy the entire complex with that thing!”

 

The Aussie froze, eyes widening, and Tracer smiled as he seemed to realize that using his tire would be a bad idea only for her face to drop as he smiled darkly, looking even more determined to find his explosive.

 

“Shouldn’a said that…” Roadhog sighed, unlatching his hook from his side just as his charge turned to walk back to the building. But before the massive junker could take his first uneven step, he sent the hook flying at the back of others peg leg and caught on to a latch at the back of the knee with precise accuracy right before ripping hard on the chain to pull it out. Catching hook and pull pin, he tucked both away and started running towards Junkrat right as the twitchy twit put weight on his prosthetic and instantly buckled when it came undone, falling face first into the ground with a surprised yelp.

 

“Oww… The hell was ‘at?” The Aussie pushed himself up, rubbing away the blood from beneath his nose only to hear something clunking around behind him. “Oi!! Give that back ya drongo!!”  

 

Barely dodging the metal hand to go swiping at him, ‘Hog had the pegleg tucked under an arm as he went running, or what counted as running to the larger man, towards the building between the wall and some metal crates stacked two high. Likely going to ditch the prosthetic inside and out of Junkrat’s reach until they could get the massive man out of his need for blowing something up mood. Like all of Overwatch…

They kind of needed the place.

 

Tracer could only watch in amazement to the quick thinking of the bodyguard, glad that he was around or she would have been SOL on the subject of stopping an explosive-hungry giant Junkrat. Though she was rather amused at the same time as she watch Jamie drag himself awkwardly across the ground after Roadhog with a slew of loud, derogatory Aussie slang. Hopefully he’d wear himself out… That was the best possible outcome.

 

She just hoped Winston would have a solution soon…

 

A sigh soon left her as Roadhog had the situation under control, her attention soon turned to the half burning pile of what used to be wooden crates only for something else to catch her attention. Right at the very top of a staircase stack of containers, there was someone at the very top of the three high stack however the sun was in her eyes. She tried to shield them, get a better look but by the time she realized who it was it was too late. The crack of a high power rifle was all she heard before impact knocked her back and a blossoming of pain shot through her as she gasped.

 

Widowmaker…

 

Junkrat stopped chasing Roadhog at hearing a familiar sound, one that filled him with dread, his head whipping around in time to see Tracer hit the ground hard and hear her pained cry. Then came Reaper like Death himself floating over to Lena with a cruel chuckle. He could see his friend still moving, her hand shakily reaching for her leg but the wraith was looking ready to finish her off.

 

“She’s still alive.” Reaper groused over a com-link, the cold barrel of his shotgun pressing against the temple of Tracer’s head as he towered over her.

 

“Who said anyzhing about killing ‘er?” Widowmaker replied back, “I want ‘er to suffer for the trouble she’s put us zhrough.”

 

“Playing with your food, tch. Terrible habit.” He chuckled lowly, “Any last words, ghost girl?”

 

“F-fire in...the hole…” she murmured while lifting up the detonator in her hand and clicking the button.

 

Reaper tensed as he sees the detonator previously used to explode the wooden crates and pallets, understanding the implications of the device. His eyes glow yellow within his death messenger mask, his form soon becomes wavy and loose turning into a black mist.

 

Tracer knew from past experience that the form Reaper is taking is designed to withstand or avoid large caliber explosions and bullets. And giggled, she knew what was to come: Nothing. No explosion. Not even a puff of smoke.

 

Reaper snarled with disappointment and relief. His mood darkening after hearing Widowmaker chortling away in his headset before stalking back up to the Brit and pointing both shotguns at her head.

 

“Time to di-ghk!?” The assassin’s words were interrupted by a hook snagging at one of his many belts and yanking him away from Tracer just as he pulled the trigger, missing his target completely as he was propelled towards Roadhog. More interruptions, the girl would die soon enough but the chubby pigman would come first as he redirected his aim at the fast approaching junker, sights locked and ready to dispatch his target.

 

Widowmaker watched her accomplice be dragged off behind a stack of metal containers through her scope and scoffed, knowing full well who had the hook and chain to do such a thing but wasn’t worried. She refocused her attention back on Tracer curled over and grabbing her thigh with a curled grin, sweet revenge for messing up their Doomfist Gauntlet heist as she lined up with that pretty little head and- A black blur of a mass went whipping by her field of view, startling her enough to follow after it to find Reaper falling face first into the ground from the dent he had made in the side of one of the containers.

 

Roadhog was strong...but not that strong. His hook was still latched on to Reaper’s belt with a good length of chain still connected to it but broken. That chain could grab, hold and pull a fully armored Reinhardt or D.Va’s mech, it was meant to last so what could have broken it?

 

Panning over to where her accomplice had been pulled too, the sniper spotted the pigman himself stepping out from behind the cover of the containers with his chain in hand and held up to his face, likely scowling behind his mask at the thick metal links then up and over to the one who likely broke it. And Reaper. Though it was stupid of him to walk out into the open with Widowmaker still at large and pointing her rifle right at his masked forehead, leaving himself ex...posed? What the hell was blocking her view?

 

She had to pull her eye away from the scope just to see that it was a massive bandaged leg stepping out from behind the containers to block her view of Roadhog. Her vision moving up to the giant sized Junkrat moving to stand from his crouched position behind cover while looking down at his junker buddy. How had she missed that?!

  


“Said I was sorry! It’s not like we can’t get it fixed up or anythin’ but we have more important matters to attend to, alroight?”

 

“. . .”

 

“Good, now then…” Junkrat turned his gaze towards the lone figure standing at the top of a stack of shipping containers, a grin curling up his sharp features. Though raised a brow when the sniper brought up her rifle, seriously doubting she would try to shoot him until he noticed that he wasn’t her mark.

 

It was Tracer, doubled over and still gripping her thigh.

 

Cursing, he lunging over to block the shot with his body, skidding across the ground in front of his bleeding friend. “AH!! Son of a-!” he snarled out, tensing as a zing of pain went through him after being pegged in the shoulder blade by a bullet, “Damn that smarts, nrrrrahaha! But doesn’t do shit! Oi, Hoggy, get over here already! I’m not goin’ ta be a human shield all day!”

 

Roadhog grunted as he trundled his way over to Tracer, using ‘Rat as a shield as he checked over the pale, and crying brunette, “. . .”

 

“Roight.” The junker nodded then reached down to tear off a strip of fabric from his tattered camo shorts to hand over to the other, watching as it was looped right at the crux where thigh and groin met of Tracer’s leg. Only to cringe as ‘Hog viciously pulled it tight against her skin and drawing a pained cry from Lena that only grew in volume as he tightened it further. He couldn’t help quickly glancing at his metal arm, a look of sympathy crossing his features for the Brit.

 

“. . .”

 

“Y-yeah, just be gentle with her.”

 

‘Hog huffed and nodded before carefully moving to pick Tracer up with a hand at the small of her back and arm curled under her legs to cradle against his body, getting the barest of sobs from her as she grabbed at his harness before he took her away. Out of sight from any more danger around the other side of a container so he could work without worry on stopping the flow of blood.

 

Watching them go, the Aussie moved to push himself up onto his feet after the two were safe. He took a moment to brush himself off and then turned to face Widowmaker with a grin, raising up both hands to the level of his head. “Oi, Spidermaker, or whatever ya name is, let’s be reasonable here. You shot my friend an’ in turn I punched yers into a wall with me metal hand, now both likely need medical attention. Either by bleedin’ or broken bones, so why don’t we both cut our losses here an’ now, hm? You take your friend an’ I’ll pretend I didn’ see you or him skulkin’ around Overwatch, or even ‘rat’ ya out ta the crotchety old man for that matter. One ‘bad guy’ to another, deal?”

 

Junkrat’s grin widened at seeing Widowmaker lower her rifle down a little ways, enough to see both of her eyes and her head turned to look at Reaper. It got a giddy giggle from him, this being the first negotiation to actually go well for him and a good move on her part. There was no way she would be dumb enough to take him on at this size, downright unfair even. Just look at Reaper, granted the guy was all but pulled into his fist but that was his own fault so maybe the other one would be-

 

“GAHH!! Mother of--!” He took a step back while using both hands to cover his face, head tilted back in pain as he muffled out a growl into his hands that turned to giggles of glee. Well that was interesting, if unexpected as he pulled his hands away to look at the bit of blood on his fingers, his forehead throbbing with minute pain as he composed himself enough to turn his attention back to the woman with the smoking rifle. “That how it is then, sheila?” the junker asked, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to lick the blood off with his deadliest grin yet, “Fine by me…”  

 

Taking one big step forward, Junkrat quickly raised up his robotic arm to protect his face in time for a bullet to go lodging itself into the metal with a loud ting as he continued on. She wasn’t that far off, at least to him, so closing the distance between them in space eating steps was easy enough as she fired away at him to slow his advance and do some damage. A shot to his bare left shoulder had him gritting his teeth tight but shrugged off the quick sting to keep going before bringing up his other arm to block his throat, unfortunately leaving his middle wide open for attack. Which was quickly taken advantage of as one after the other he was pegged in the chest and stomach though took a determined step after each round.

 

He was almost there.

 

Widowmaker was already at the highest point in the open area of the loading yard, the only place she could grapple on to for escape was the light fixtures in the yard, a crane off in the far distance, and the Overwatch building which was behind the junker. None of which were a good option, so she took her chances in doing as much damage as possible as her next target was locked on to the giant’s exposed knee and firing away. Getting the best results yet as he nearly buckled with a loud hiss that turned giggly as he stood before the staircase stack of containers, did the man ever stop laughing!? He was worse than a hyena and somehow found gaining new orifices all over his body to be hilarious!

 

‘Well zhen, let’s see ‘ow funny zhis is when I take my next shot,’ she grinned, taking aim on a place she knew would harbour results.

 

“Tick tock, tick tock, sheila, runnin’ out of time an’ nowhere ta run. Hope ya got a--” ‘Rat choked on his words as the crack of that rifle went off once again. He had seen her pointing low, expecting another shot at his knee or even his femoral artery not his… His guard instantly dropped down to cup at his groin while he doubled over in pain, close to collapsing to his knees but stubbornly stayed standing as he let out a long ground out ‘nnnnnnn’ of agony behind tightly sealed teeth.

 

One of his eyes twitched when he caught on to the sound of the sniper’s laughter, those French ‘hon hon hon’s’ of victory grating at his nerves to go along with the click of her high heels across metal. Likely making her exit while he was incapacitated.

 

Heh…

 

“So…”

 

That stopped Widowmaker in her tracks, attention turning back to Junkrat who had his head lifted up, almost level with her in his hunched state. His orange eyes smouldering with crazed rage as his shoulders shook with held in giggles.

 

“Ya always aim for the other head when the first doesn’t work?” He asked with voice pitched an octave higher than usual before breaking out into peals of laughter at his own joke. Then suddenly bringing both hands up to shove hard at the middle stack of empty containers, sending them, along with Widowmaker, toppling over to the ground.

While the metal rectangles crashed, the sniper was quick to use her grappling hook to latch onto one of the lamp posts behind her but wasn’t about to get very far with Junkrat right on her tail. Recuperated and ready to lay into the bitch as he lunged at her like he had with Tracer though held nothing back like he had with the brunette, this was personal.

 

He didn’t care if he hurt this one.

 

And Widowmaker could see the bloodlust in the junker’s eyes as she was pulled back by her line, no time to get up on top of the post or even rappel to the ground with the distance between them closing fast. There was only time for one last shot to either make or break the situation as she raised her scope to her eye and pulled the trigger, shooting the Aussie’s right eye. Dead center.

 

Unfortunately for her, Junkrat didn’t even stop as he snatched her off of her tethered line with enough force to bend the lamp post before the line snapped free, garnering a startled scream from Widowmaker as she was crushed tight, arms pinned to her side, in his grimy glove covered hand. Not that it mattered, both could crush her easily though one could do it quicker.

 

“Gotcha~” he sing songed, breaking out into giggles that turned to a hiss of pain as he brought his metal hand up to his closed eye, “Nrrrrr… just had to get a last one in didja? Aw well, y’know what they say: An eye for an eye, so...”

 

Removing the robotic hand from his damaged eye, the junker antagonized the little sniper with his metal fingers while taking a well earned seat on the ground, prodding at her forehead then thumbing over one of those pretty little eyes with a sinister grin playing across his injured face as he put the smallest amount of pressure against it. Enough to make her squirm, both of their single eyed gazes meeting. One of fear the other of sick glee as he cackled, adding more pressure. Little by little pressing harder.

 

The moment Widowmaker let out a gasp of pain was when he let up, pulling his thumb away to inspect the bruise then moved on with a small hum and giggle. He was methodical in his work, giving back to the blue skinned woman each and every fragment of damage she had done to him in return by means of dark livid bruises pinched, poked and squeezed on to her body.

 

His cackles growing manic with each pathetic scream, cry or whimper to come from his hostage, smiling like a shark as he released her knee between thumb and forefinger only to give it a flick and earning a muffled sob. A thoughtful look came to him then with only one place left that needed punishment, “Yer lucky yer a sheila… If yaz had a cock I would have popped it for the pain ya caused me, that wasn’t very nice.”

 

Widowmaker glared defiantly up at the massive junker, looking ready to spit in his face if he got close enough while scowling darkly at him. Nothing but hatred in her watery eyes as she held back on showing anymore pain to the skinny man.

 

“Guess this’ll just have to do,” Junkrat sighed with disappointment while pinching at the other’s thigh. “Seem familiar? Bet it does, ya shot me friend here, an’ let me tell ya… I’ve been nice, that pea shooter of yers was more of an annoyance to me than anythin’ else but ta her,” he tilted his head in the direction of where Tracer was for emphasis then dropping his voice to dead serious, “ya might have just fucked her. That also wasn’t very nice an’ honestly, she’s too goodie goodie ta return the favour. Me on the other hand, I’m malevolent.”

 

The pitched wail of a cry to come from Widowmaker was like music to his ears and so was the sickening muted crunch of bone. No wonder Hoggy liked to go bare knuckles now and again, if he had this kind of strength all the time he wouldn’t of minded brawling more often but such was life and explosives were the most satisfying way to go.

 

“Huh, passed out.” The Aussie huffed, giving his limp hostage a small shake to be sure before leaning in close, “Y’fuck with me friends again an’ I promise ya they won’t find all yer pieces ta put ya back together…”

 

With that, he carelessly dumped Widowmaker’s battered and bruised body to the ground before standing up to hobble back over to where Roadhog had taken Tracer, just rounding the corner of a knee high metal shipping container only to hear a familiar dark cackling. His attention quickly turning to where Reaper had been downed only to see nothing but the dent his body had made as well as Roadhog’s hook and in looking back he notice that the sniper was gone to. Both of them vanished without a trace.

 

Oh well, let them run with their tails between their legs, Junkrat had more important matters to attend to. Like a heavily bleeding friend.

 

“How’s she doin’?” he asked ‘Hog, rounding the corner then crouching down and moving to sit on his knees.

 

Tracer was laid out on the ground with Roadhog holding both sides of her injured leg to both elevate and put pressure on the hole going through with his hands. Her breathing was shallow and it looked as though she could barely keep her eyes open as wet brown eyes lulled over to look up at the oversized junker followed by a weak smile to her pale, tear stained face.

 

“Hey…” she murmured tiredly, barely awake and mostly out of it with pain as she lifted a hand to wave but only managed to make the limb flop weakly.

 

“. . .”

 

“Yeah no kiddin’. Blood loss’ll do that.”

 

“. . .”

 

“Probably for the best, not like I’m fittin’ in there ta get help.” ‘Rat was already in the process of ripping off another strip from his tattered pants for wrapping around the wound while Roadhog pulled his bloody hands away. He let his piggy friend tie around the piece of cloth while he rubbed both his hands off on to his shorts then scrutinized each one before picking the cleanest, his metal hand, to apply pressure to both sides of the wound with the cloth between to soak up and help with staunching the flow of blood. No raising needed with his index finger thick enough to prop her leg up.

 

“Alright, I got this. Now go get some help, just not from that trash can Omnic!!”

 

‘Hog grunted with annoyance, insulted that Junkrat would even think he’d go to Zenyatta for help as he hurried away. Though caught the faint sound of giggles coming from their downed friend.

 

“Heh… Don’t know how you can even stand workin’ with Omnics…” Junkrat shook his head, changing focus, “How ya feelin’?”

 

“Hurts… an’...tired…”

 

“I know but ya gotta stay awake, stay with me ‘till a medic gets here.”

 

“I’ll...tr...try…”

 

“It’s all ya can really do, just hang on a little longer an’ save yer energy.”

 

Lena nodded in understanding. It was hard to even get out the simplest of words while trying to take in quick, shallow breaths of air. Not to mention the pain and lightheadedness of losing so much blood so far but she stayed quiet for a few moments. Just trying to breath and keep her heavy eyelids open as she would blink slowly, keep her eyes closed then slowly open them back up to half lidded and even that was a chore.

 

“J...Jamie?” She finally said while turning to look up at the junker, noticing his one good eye twitch at the calling of his real name but still didn’t say anything about it.

 

“Uh, yeah?”

 

“I’m…” she started, eyes welling up with tears, “m’scared…”

 

Junkrat’s amber eye widened to the point his bad eye opened a sliver before quickly closing back up as he turned his head away with furrowed brows, unnerved by her confession. He didn’t exactly look like the kind of guy to give out hugs or comfort very often, if at all. He just looked uncomfortable as he cleared his throat, turned his attention back to Lena and giggled nervously while forcing a smile.

 

“No need to be scared, _love_ ,” he tried to mimic her accent of the word, practically butchering it but got a weak, wobbly smile for his efforts, “Roadie’s already fetchin’ someone to come out an’ help, shouldn’ be too long now then yer goin’ ta get patched up good as new an’ we’ll all laugh about this later. Like when ya tricked Reaper, bloody brilliant.”

 

Tracer’s smile widened all the way up to her eyes as they crinkled at the corners before closing them as she laughed faintly, her tears spilling over though no more followed as she slowly reopened them, “Y...yeah…”

 

“Yeh, you’ll be alroight. As long as I’m around, death won’t be comin’ for ya.” The junker giggled, only to notice Roadhog back with a few others in tow, “Heh, just yer friends. G’day!”

 

Lena watched him raise up his good arm to wave over at the blurry group of people approaching them, unable to make any of them out until they were literally on top of her like blonde hair and reassuring smile of Mercy checking over her vitals. She could just make out Roadhog moving to stand by Jamie as he pulled his large hand away from her leg to let the medic in but could also make out the gruff voice of Soldier 76, likely wanting to know what happened. But after that it was all a confusing blur of voices and colours around her then movement as she was picked up to be taken inside then the sounds around her turned muzzy and incoherent before finally fading to black.

 

…

 

..

 

.

 

Beep...Beep...Beep…

 

Opening her eyes, Tracer blinked a couple of times to get the bleary haze of sleep to go away from her vision as she took in a white ceiling above. The beeps and chirps of a machine close by told her she was in one of the recovery rooms of the infirmary, having visited teammates and friends a few times there before but never expecting to find herself in one of the beds. She also hadn’t expected to be shot in broad daylight just outside the complex of Overwatch either but such was life as a hero. Tilting her head to the side, she smiled at a small rusty tin vase with a set of wilty looking wildflowers in it. This somehow getting an amused giggled out of her.

 

“Lena..?” A sleepy voice out of nowhere mumbled, drawing Tracer’s attention to the chair in the corner of the room.

 

It was Junkrat and it looked as though he had just woken up himself as he rubbed at his eye, blinking away the fog of sleep before moving to stand up with a back crackling stretch. Obviously sleeping in a stiff chair not the best of ideas but it didn’t stop him from cracking his signature smile and limping over to greet her.

 

“Yer awake.”

 

“And you’re back to normal.”

 

“Yeah, Winston got me back ta normal about,” he glanced up at the wall clock, noticing just how late it was, “four hours ago. Somethin’ about my radiation mixin’ with his an’... it was all sciencey mumbo jumbo ta me. But, yeah, you’ve slept most of the day away. Makes sense an’ all with losin’ that much blood. Had me worried when ya just up an’ conked out after Hoggy picked ya up, must’a done it too fast. I warned him too!”

 

“Jamie.”

 

“But hey! Yer alive, ya pulled through! Sure Hoggy had ta show me which window you were in since none of the wankers around here were of much help, humph, after all I’ve done... but the moment I was back to normal I came ta visit! Even when I was told not to...an’ speakin’ of I shouldn’t even be here, so uh, don’t tell Mercy…”

 

Tracer couldn’t help laughing with amusement, getting a genuine, non-insane, smile off the junker. Her attention soon turning to his smiling face and only now noticing in the dimly lit room the little band-aid on his forehead and the larger one patched over his right eye. Or even the fact that he was cleaned up, barely any soot or grime on him and his hair actually looked decent, though still smouldering at the ends.

 

“Your eye…”

 

“What? This?” Junkrat pointed to the patch before dismissively waving it away with a raspberry blown between his lips, “S’nothin’ took a bullet ta the eye chasin’ Spidermaker down. It’s fine, Mercy says it’ll heal in a few days, she even fished the bullet out for me! Says it was easy while I was big, though was weird as hell but she also pulled out all the other ones too from the rest of me.”

 

Hence the multiple little band-aids across his bare torso. Too bad they weren’t themed band-aids, that would have been too much for the Brit.

 

“Who cares though, I’m just glad- no, relieved that yer alroight.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“Heh… Uh,” Junkrat cleared his throat, shifting from one foot to the other awkwardly, “So… I can uh, give ya that hug now, if ya want it that is. No fear of crushin’ now, an’ I’m clean too! See? I won’t leave a mess behind after.”

 

Tracer couldn’t help smiling even wider and opening up her arms, “A hug sounds wonderful, love.”

 

Brightening up, the junker helped Lena sit up before wrapping her in a gentle hug. She was already injured. It wouldn’t do to add to it by accident but couldn’t help giving her a faint squeeze.

 

“Thank you…” Lena mumbled over his shoulder, garnering a confused expression from Junkrat.

 

“No need ta thank me… It’s just a hug.” He sniggered.

 

She shook her head. “No, thank you for saving me.”

 

“Aw, no need ta thank me, or Hoggie, for that either!” The Aussie snorted, pulling away with a grin, “We’re teammates. Friends. Junkers,” he lightly nudged her with his elbow, “we gotta stick together, leave no man- er, woman, behind!”

 

Tracer couldn’t help giggling, nodding in agreement only to be caught off guard by a yawn.

 

“Looks like ya need s’more rest then. I won’t keep ya, it is pretty late...early… However ya wanna put it.” He shrugged, helping her lean back into bed and pulling the covers up further, “Rest up though, we still owe Hoggy-woggy a meal.”

 

“Hehe, okay.”

 

They both said their good nights before Junkrat went lopping his way oddly towards the window, opening it up the rest of the way and noticing something latched on to the edge. It wasn’t until he had one foot out that Lena called out to him,

 

“Jamie..?”

 

“Yeah..?” His eye didn’t even twitch that time.

 

“ _Thank you._ ”

 

“Heh… Yer welcome, _love_.” Junkrat threw a wave at her before slipping the rest of the way out the window and down the rope attached to the rusted hook latched to the sill. Rappelling down from the second floor with ease, he thumped hard to the ground once he got to the end, throwing a cheeky grin Roadhog’s way as the older junker sat against the wall waiting for him, “Y’miss me?”

 

“. . .”

 

“Aww, you were worried about her too, ya big softie!” He teased, getting a huffy grunt from the bigger man as he moved to take a seat next to him, “It’s alright, I won’t tell anyone me bodyguard’s gone soft. It’ll be between you an’ me.”

 

“. . .”

 

“She’s awake, or at least was for a bit. Got ta chat with her… I’m gonna need to get another thing of flowers for her though, the ones I got are already wiltin’…”

 

“. . .”

 

“Water? Shit, why didn’ I think of that… Aw well, next time.” ‘Rat shrugged, turning his attention to look up at the starry night sky with a soft sigh.

 

“. . .”

 

“Eh, we’ll leave it. If we’re lucky no one will notice an’ I’ll get ta visit Lena whenever I want while she’s healin’. Tch, can’t visit her until yer cleaned up, Junkrat, wouldn’ want ta infect the wound. It’s too late ta visit her now, Junkrat. Just let her rest, Junkrat. Junkrat Junkrat Junkrat,” he scoffed while doing a nagging women’s voice then going back to normal with annoyance, “Nrrrr! Who needs ‘em! I got up there an’ I didn’t even wake her up! Bunch’a city wankers anyways…”

 

“. . .”

 

“Damn roight I wanna blow somethin’ up now! Last explosion was too bloody cute ta be taken seriously! I need somethin’ bigger, more excitin’ more-- Wait a minute… I got returned ta normal without all me gear on. D’ya think all me stuff is still big? Like me Rip-Tire?!”

 

Roadhog could only shrug, unsure as he watched the twitchy junker leap up to his feet. Eager excitement just oozing from his pores as he shook with uncontrollable giggles.

 

“Well watta we waitin’ for!? M’beauties gotta be around here somewhere! Hah hah!!”

 

Sighing deeply, ‘Hog slowly got to his feet to follow after the uneven steps of his overeager charge. No rest for the twitchy spazz and already off on another adventure. Hopefully nothing as extreme as before but he wasn’t holding his breath. Junkrat was a magnet for trouble and there was no force in the universe strong enough to keep him away from it.

 

\-----

 

\--8 hours earlier--

  


“Annnd it’s out.” Mercy murmured up to the giant junker as she hopped off his leg to float to the ground with forceps in hand clamped around a bullet which was placed with the other six she had dug out earlier. A metallic ting the only sign of her dropping it in the bowl with all her other supplies nearby on the trolley making seven altogether before turning back around to face Junkrat. “Are zhere anymore or vill zhat be all, Jamie?”

 

“Don’t call me that, it’s Junkrat.” The Aussie huffed with annoyance, fixing the Swiss a one eyed glare.

 

“Vill zhat be all, _Junkrat_?”

 

“Heh...Well actually…” He grinned widely, snickering away as he reached for his belt and began to undo it as the healer’s brows nearly shot up to her hairline.

 

“You are kidding..?”

 

“S’ain’t no laughin’ matter, sheila. I’ve got a bullet in me cock that needs removin’.”

 

While ‘Rat continued to wrestle away at his belt, Mercy turned her stunned gaze over to Roadhog who was standing by with folded arms and waiting for them to finish up. At noticing her stare, he seemed to shrug, unphased by the newest development. She sighed then, bringing a hand up to her tired face as she heard the chinking of that large metal belt being moved aside then the sound of a zipper being pulled down.

 

“Let’s just get zhis over vizh…”

  
  
End.


End file.
